


Mile High

by mresundance



Category: Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: Airplane Sex, F/M, Humor, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: Mads and Hugh decide to join the Mile High Club.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WarpedChyld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarpedChyld/gifts).



> For warpedchyld, as a late birthday gift. :3 Happy birthday my darling, my platonic murder potato slash wife.

“It’s a phrase, or expression, I suppose. It means you have sex on the plane.”

“But we’re more than a mile above ground.”

“Yes, of course min skat, but it doesn’t sound as good to say you’re in the ‘40,000 Feet Above the Earth Club’. Mile High Club sounds better, doesn’t it?”

“It’s also very American.”

“This is true.”

A companionable silence. The roar of air and plane engines from outside. Ahead of the two men, their wives slumbered in their seats in the darkened cabin. And thank goodness that they slept, Hugh thought. He didn’t want Claire and Hanne weighing in on the Mile High Club thing. Both could be absolutely filthy when it came to it.

Mads cleared his throat.

“Are you in the Mile High Club, Hugh?”

“Unfortunately not. I’ve gotten close but . . .”

“No banana, is it?”

“Yes. No banana. You?”

“No, I’m not.”

Mads looked at his hands.

“Maybe we should remedy that?”

“What, us not being in the Mile High Club?”

He said it flippantly to the magazine he’d been skimming through, the kind which advertise all manner of things you didn’t know existed.

“Yes, us not being in the Mile High Club.”

Pause.

Hugh closed the magazine slowly.

“Yes. Let’s do this. I hate flying. Sex is the opposite of that.”

Mads nodded as if that made sense.

“Where do we do this?” Hugh asked.

“I don’t know. The bathroom?”

Dirty and tiny. They would be wedged between the walls and have just enough room to pull back as they ground against each other. Oh yes.

“Perfect. How about you go first, to that one in the upper right? And then in a few minutes I’ll come and tap on the door three times and you’ll let me in. Alright?”

Mads nodded again, and, standing, unfurled those great long legs and that beautiful lean body. Hugh watched him with a longing he always had for Mads.

He waited. And couldn’t wait any longer and so sprang up, hurrying down the aisle to the bathroom.

_Tap tap tap._

The door did not budge.

 _Tap tap_ _TAP._

Nothing.

_Knock knock knock._

Still nothing.

Hugh sighed and wondered if Mads was just being ornery.

 _Knock knock_ _SMACK_ _._

“Come on Mads, open the flippin’ door.”

The door popped open and Hugh tumbled right in, and right into Mads. The door swung and snapped shot, and they were both breathing heavily in the brightly lit, cramped space.

Hugh forgot to ask Mads why he didn’t open the door earlier (he couldn’t hear those mousy little taps over the sound of the plane), and instead started kissing him. It was not at all chaste. He slid his hand down into Mads’ track pants. The plane jolted and they both collided with the sink.

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Nuummmneeh.”

“What?”

“I stubbed a toe.”

They maneuvered now, half walking, half crawling up the walls, so Hugh faced the sink and Mads stood behind him.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mads asked as he tried to pull Hugh’s pants down just a little. It was nearly impossible in this space and he ended up rubbing against Hugh’s bare ass while his fingertips tried to force Hugh’s pants down over his hips. Hugh shuddered at the touch, at the light scrape of nails against his skin.

“This is a fantastic idea. Don’t you,” Hugh purred, “don’t you want to fuck me?”

Hugh could just vaguely see Mads in the mirror. His eyes widened, then his jaw set in determination.

He pushed Hugh over the sink, shoulders and neck bent, and fumbled with his track pants. Hugh could hear his heavy breathing, felt Mads getting soap and then rimming his hole with it. Hugh whimpered, opening his legs as much as possible.

Mads slicked his own cock, and his head pressed against Hugh’s entrance when the plane jolted again, and Hugh was flung face-first into the mirror.

“Holy fuck, Jesus,” he said, feeling his throbbing nose.

Mads, still pressed against him, made some strangled sounds which Hugh figured out meant Mads’ cock had thrust at a bad angle against Hugh’s thigh.

“Oh, I’m so sorry love, I’m so sorry.”

Hugh pulled his pants up by first wedging his arm into a space between his own hip and the counter. And he reached back for Mads, the both of them squishing together and slipping into each other.

“I’ve had enough,” Mads said, and then promptly _disappeared._ Hugh blinked furiously into the space Mads had occupied and there was simply _nothing._

“Mads?”

“Up here, wee man.”

My god. Mads was on the ceiling.

“How did -- how?”

“I was a gymnast, remember?”

“I sort of hate and love you right now.”

_Knock knock._

“Uhm, someone’s here,” Hugh said.

“Shit,” he whispered up to Mads. “Okay. I can go out first. And then you should stay up there for a little while and then come out.”

Mads snorted.

“That’s stupid. Let’s just both come out and get stared at.”

“Fine. Talk sense why don’t you.”

Mads swung down, and they both bounced into the door. It took a lot of bending, twisting, and scrabbling to finally open it. They peered out into the darkness of the cabin.

Their wives peered back.

“Hello darling. I didn’t know you were there,” Hugh said to Claire.

Claire just sighed at her husband, and the way his entire body was contorted in that small bathroom.

“You both were trying to have sex in there, weren’t you?”

“Uhm, yes. More or less.”

“You both are impossible.”

Mads and Hanne exchanged a few words in Danish and Hanne did not seem impressed by his gymnastics.

Properly chided, the two men returned to their seats. Hugh felt the squelch of soap in his ass still (it would burn later) and slumped mournfully and defeatedly into his seat.

“Well, that was a bit of a wash.”

“Only if you think so,” Mads said. “I think it was memorable, even without sex.”

Hugh thought about that while Mads moved the armrest dividing them out of the way. He did it so he could lay his head in Hugh’s lap. Absently, Hugh began stroking Mads’ fine gray and silver hair.

“I think you may be right, min kære.”

**Author's Note:**

> min skat: my dear/my treasure
> 
> min kære: my dear
> 
> idioms for English as a second (or third) language speaker: Idioms are really hard to communicate in any language, especially if one is not a native speaker. They just, objectively, make no sense. “But no banana?” How does that even make sense? If you heard that expression for the first time it would be very confusing. 
> 
> At any rate, showing that Mads may still struggle with idioms, and wanting to make them literal because that is how idioms present themselves, is mostly accurate even for someone who is almost entirely fluent in English. I’ve taught ESL students, and ESL students who were experienced speakers of the English language, and they still asked me “what does that mean?” of certain idioms and colloquialisms. It’s not that they are stupid or ignorant at all. Idioms are just weird and difficult.


End file.
